Call Of Freedom
by KnifeInTheCrayonBox
Summary: Due to a family curse, all the women in Moana's family are pledged to the vengeful god Maui after they give birth to a daughter to carry on the line. To avoid this fate, Moana has vowed never to fall in love, but that changes when she meets Hiccup. Suddenly, it's not a choice anymore, and her only hope of freeing herself is to complete her ancestor's quest and break the curse. AU
1. Call Of The Ocean

Chapter One - Call Of The Ocean

There are many heroes that my people look up to. But the most famous hero from our stories was perhaps the demi-god, Maui.

He did so much for us, like forming our islands and giving us the gift of fire. He slowed the sun so we would have more light to work during the day, and lifted the sky when he saw that it was too low and that the people were suffering because of it. The great deeds of Maui were numerous, and that is why he is considered a hero. Our people also have villains in our stories—and they are declared such because of the numerous bad deeds they have done.

Heroes can make mistakes, and sometimes villains can even do a good deed or two—but they are given separate titles. There is no gray area—one is either a villain or a hero. And therein lies the problem, because even the best gods and demi-god's have a dark side. These stories are not told, and so I must tell the untold story of Maui so all may know he is not only a hero—but a devious, vengeful villain. For all the good things he did, there is one thing I could never forgive him for—taking my mother away from me.

For the past seven generations, he has separated mothers from daughters because of a grudge held against one of my ancestors—a woman named Lolana. The story goes that one day while Maui was out fishing on his boat, he caught a glimpse of the most beautiful mortal women he had ever seen. Filled with desire for her, he swam ashore and tried to impress her with feats of strength. Lolana was amused.

Thinking he had won her over, Maui asked her to become his. The woman was flattered, of course, since a demi-god had taken such an interest in her, but explained that she was in love with another man, and they were soon to be married. Maui was surprised by her refusal, and tried even harder to persuade her to become his.

When she kept refusing his advances, Maui was filled with anger.

To punish her for her refusal, he put a curse on her and all future generations—she would indeed marry the man she loved, and give birth to a healthy baby girl who would grow into a beautiful woman. However, after the child was weaned, he would steal the mother from her family and keep her for the rest of her days as tribute and slave on his island. To make it worse, each girl that was born from her line—once she married and gave birth to a daughter of her own—would be taken as soon as the child was weaned.

Lolana was frightened by his threat, but her fiancé promised he would keep her safe from any and all harm—whether it was demi-god or mortal. So the woman moved on with her life and married the man she loved. Just as Maui had predicted, she gave birth to a daughter, and as soon as the child was weaned, Lolana was stolen away to Maui's mystical island. Every woman born from Lolana since then has suffered the same fate—most recently, my mother, Sina.

I am next in line.

When I first heard of the curse from my father at the age of four—the age when he believed I was old enough to hear the truth—I made a vow to myself. I would _never_ fall in love. If I never fall in love, there is no chance of me marrying and bearing a daughter. The curse was contingent upon me giving birth to a daughter so it could continue, but if I never gave birth, I would never be stolen away by Maui and forced to become his slave. I knew what this meant, even from that young age.

I sometimes watched the other young couples on our island with envy, knowing I would never get a chance to experience the magical feeling of falling in love, but I knew that missing out on an experience was surely better than experiencing it for a short time, only to have it cruelly snatched from me. It was surely better than being ripped away from my family to an island where I would be alone with that hated man—to have him force himself upon me until he tired of me or I died.

Thankfully, as daughter of the Chief, I found lots of things to distract myself with. While other girls were daughters of common laborers and had to work in the fields, I had the freedom to do whatever I pleased, as long as I never left the island or went out into the water. Father was scared that if I ventured too far away from him, Maui would come and snatch me away, or I might be taken away from him by some other accident. Because he was unable to keep my mother from being taken, he was determined to keep me safe, even if that meant forbidding me from setting foot into the waters surrounding our island. Of course, contrary to my father's rules, that was usually where I ended up.

My gramma loved the ocean, and told me that my mother had loved the ocean as well. It was one of the things that they bonded over as mother-in-law and daughter-in-law. She had loved my mother like her own daughter, and loved me just as much, but unlike my father, she said I deserved to be who I was. She was the one who carved my _alaia_ board when I was old enough to learn how to surf. It was beautiful—made from the _wiliwili_ wood that was reserved for royalty. It was almost a rite of passage in my village to learn how to surf, and I loved it. I always dreamed of traveling to the farthest corners of the earth and seeing what lay beyond our small island, and surfing was as close as I could get to that dream.

Today, like many similar days, I found myself lying on my _alaia_ board, paddling out towards the ocean. As I pushed onward through the waves, I pondered on what _could_ actually lay beyond our island. I knew there were various islands surrounding us, but what about beyond that? The only people who knew the answer to that had set out months ago and had yet to return, so it appeared I may never know.

It was nearing ten months ago that my father sent out scouts to search for a man my island had only heard whispers about—a master over the mo'o. Traders from other nearby islands told us stories about him and spoke of him as if he were a deity himself—hearing the stories from traders further out, and they, in turn, hearing it from traders even further away. They said the stories of this man had traveled from lands far beyond our islands. When my father heard the rumors, he immediately sent scouts out across the oceans to find the man from the legends.

Until recently, the mo'o had always lived relatively peacefully among our people—rarely attacking us or stealing our food. We understood that _we_ may rule over the island, but the ocean was their domain, and we respected that. But a little over four years ago, they began attacking our ships and stealing our food, so my father was left with little choice but to believe the rumors about this man to be true—they just _had_ to be, for the sake of our people. For the past ten months we have held out hope for the scouts to return with the fabled master of the mo'o, but they were long overdue. The ocean could only stretch so far, couldn't it? Surely it must end somewhere. Was the world truly flat as some believed, or was it endless like others said?

I raised my gaze to the rolling waters coming towards me, and shook the troubling thoughts away. The sky was a dark blue and gray, with a stronger wind than usual that swept out from the island towards the ocean. My hair blew across my face—trying to block my vision with curled tendrils of black. I could feel my skirt whipping around my thighs, where it had ridden up, but nothing could make me stay in on a day like this.

These kinds of days were the best for surfing—because offshore winds made perfect waves. I imagined that the others were out on the water too, due to the great surfing weather, but this particular spot was empty. My great-grandfather had deemed it the best surfing spot on the island, and so he reserved it solely for his use and that of his descendants—making it _kapu_ , or forbidden, for anyone else to come here. My father didn't surf, and didn't know my gramma had taught me herself, so this was the perfect spot for me to surf without my father finding out about it.

Focusing on the present, I dug my arms through the water and pushed my board forward. I broke through the crashing waves and paddled out a bit further before sitting up, dangling my feet over the edge. Closing my eyes, I could feel the motion of the water beneath me—the push and pull of the currents. I could _feel_ the waves roll and crest, calmly waiting for my instincts to tell me when the perfect wave was coming.

Suddenly, I felt it.

Eyes snapping open, I turned my board and began paddling furiously towards the shore. The wave rose up beneath me and thrust my wooden board forward. I popped up on the board and spread my arms out—finding my balance before taking the dive down the wave. The wind snapped my hair back and stray droplets of water splashed against my face. The feeling it gave me, the indescribable exhilaration, was the best sensation in the world. Turning the board, I sliced through the water as the wave crashed around me—forming a tunnel. When I made it out, I turned my board towards the shore and rode it into the white water. All too soon, the thrill ended and I was left with an empty feeling in the pit of my stomach.

When my ride came to an end, I jumped off and landed in the water. I popped up a moment later, making sure to grab my board so it wouldn't get swept away. I didn't waste any time before hoisting myself back up on the board. That was good—but I wanted more. More of a thrill—more danger and excitement. I wanted a wave so incredible it would leave my mind spinning and my body buzzing with excitement. I wanted to feel like there was lightning shooting through my veins—and today would be the perfect day for that. The waves were bigger and stronger than usual due to the beginnings of a storm coming, so the waves would be fiercer than ever.

I lay prone and turned to paddle out towards the open ocean once again. This time, I went out further than before—looking for the bigger waves. It took a while to paddle out far enough to get the really big waves, but I kept pushing myself until I made it. Once I was there, I only had to wait for a few minutes before I felt a great surge of water. Digging my arms into the water, I counted each deep stroke as I paddled towards the shore. The wave rose slowly, but as soon as it did, I knew it was going to be huge—at least forty feet, possibly more.

My heart raced inside my chest, threatening to beat right out of it. I stayed near the top and rode it steady. As it surged forward, the wave curled, and I sliced down the drop created by it. I could feel my board going faster than it had in a long time, and I let out a whoop of joy.

Suddenly, a sound cut through the roar of the wave—a sound that, even though it was uncommon, struck me to my very core with fear. My eyes darted over to my right—where the sound had come from—and saw a mo'o riding the same wave as me, not more than ten feet away. It was a bright turquoise color, with pink tinged wings spread out to glide across the water. Sharp spikes rose up along its ridged back, with the longest of these spikes protruding from its head. Its long snout opened up, revealing a row of razor sharp teeth, as it let out a loud roar.

I screamed.

My body instinctively shifted away from the sea monster and I lost my balance. It was a free-fall to the surging wave below, and then— _wham!_

I didn't even get a chance to take a breath. The churning waters tossed my body around like seaweed underwater. The force of the water beating me was suffocating. I felt like I was being crushed from all sides. I couldn't tell which way was up or down, and began to feel the stirrings of panic deep in the pit of my stomach. Gramma taught me it was important to remain calm when you lost your balance and wiped-out—a lesson she said that was as important to surfing as it was to life. So I forced my body to relax and ride out the wave.

Suddenly, I felt something slam into my leg—slicing through my skin. The burn of seawater on my open wound was unbearable. I opened my mouth in a scream and felt seawater rush down my throat.

I began to choke.

My arms flailed around—desperately reaching for anything that could save me. My legs kicked uselessly, trying to propel myself forward. It seemed like I was down there for an eternity. The edges of my vision turned from white and blue to black—fading around the edges. My head suddenly felt very heavy. A fiery pain sparked to life in my lungs, spreading slowly throughout my body. Flailing arms became deadweights as I let out my last breath of air.

Just as I gave up hope, I felt arms encircle my waist—pulling me through the water. When I felt my head break the surface I tried to gulp down air, but instead I began coughing up seawater. My legs were useless, but I felt myself being pulled through the water. When I felt my feet touch the bottom, the arms around me shifted, and I was dragged through the shallow waters up to the shoreline. The arms that had saved me gently lowered me to the sand.

"Come on, Moana, open your eyes," a gentle but anxious voice coaxed me. I could barely feel the hand tapping my cheek—I felt numb. I tried to open my eyes, but they felt so heavy and useless. "Come on, tell me you're all right."

I recognized the voice, and when I finally cracked my eyes open, I saw the face of my best friend hovering over me. Her eyebrows were creased in worry and she was biting down on her lower lip. "Amura?"

She gave a sigh of relief, letting her head fall forward slightly. Her wet tendrils of black hair brushed against my cheeks, tickling them. "Oh, thank Rangi," she muttered. When she opened her eyes again there was a spark of irritation, along with a quiver in her normally strong voice. "You scared me half to death, you know!"

I let out another violent cough and felt more seawater come up. Amura immediately grabbed me under my arms and hauled me up into a sitting position so I wouldn't choke. She sat behind me so that I was leaning on something sturdy, and turned her black eyes to the sea.

"I saw the mo'o!" I said, remembering how close I had been to it—how close I had been to death. "They don't usually come this close to the shore."

As I looked out over the crashing waves, I remembered my board. I frantically tried to stand, and as I did a flaring pain sprung up in my leg. I let out a cry of pain, tears biting at the edge of my eyes, but I still tried to stand. Amura's grip on me tightened and held me down as she tried to calm me. "Whoa, Moana, calm down! What's wrong?"

"My _alaia!_ " I cried, my voice still hoarse. "Where is my board?!"

"Look, it's out there on the waves, its fine," she said, pointing to a rolling wave that carried my board on it. It wasn't too far out, but I knew the current could change at any moment and pull my board out to sea. As if reading my mind, she added, "Fine, I'll go get it."

Amura made sure I could sit on my own before she stood and walked toward the ocean. Swimming out into the water, she quickly grabbed my board and pulled it back to shore. As she came back, I noticed the top of my board had a reddish stain on it. Ignoring the burning pain, I turned my leg around to see the gash on the back of my calf and made the connection. So that was what hit me—my board.

Amura dragged it over before plopping it down next to me in the sand. She raked a hand through her hair, pushing it away from her face, then extended a hand toward me. As she turned her gaze to me, it suddenly wandered down to my leg. "Come on, I'll help you home."

I grabbed her hand and she hauled me to my feet. A burst of pain came when I put pressure on my injured leg, but I grit my teeth and waited for it to dull down. Once it was manageable, I took a tentative step forward, gripping Amura's arm as she helped me walk forward.

As we reached the border between the forest and the shoreline, a figure stepped out from the trees, and we both froze. The bent posture and walking cane gave the figure away before she had even stepped into the light streaming through the canopy overhead.

"Gramma Tala?" Amura and I both said at the same time.

"Amura? What are you doing here?" Gramma swung her cane at a spot on the shore just behind us, and we both turned to look. Near the tree line, stuck there in the sand, were two wooden sticks crossing each other. At the end of each stick was a white ball—this was the sign chief's used to mark spots that were _kapu_. Amura could get into serious trouble if anyone learned she was here, and I could get into serious trouble with my dad if he discovered what I was doing behind his back.

"I saved Moana's life!" Amura blurted out, trying to shift the focus from her onto me. I shot her a nasty look as gramma's gaze swung over to me. I immediately swung my injured foot behind my other foot, trying to hide the wound, but Gramma caught the movement. She swung her cane towards my leg and caught it with the bend in the wood, drawing my leg up towards her.

"What happened?"

"The board hit my leg after I wiped out."

She clicked her tongue, shaking her head. "You should be more careful, Moana. I didn't teach you to surf so you could go and get yourself killed." She released my leg. "It's not a deep cut, it should be fine if you bandage it up."

"Are you going to tell my dad?"

"Maybe if you had lost a leg." She gestured for me and Amura to follow her. "Come on, let's get some leaves for that wound."

With Amura's help, I hobbled up the sandy slope. When we finally reached the healing plants there was a sheen of sweat on my forehead—causing my hair to mat against my face. The cool seawater now felt hot and sticky against my skin, and my clothes clung to me in an uncomfortable way. Amura helped me sit down on a large rock, and I wiped a hand across my forehead.

Gramma walked over to the nearby plants, grabbing a few of the leaves before tearing them up. Then she placed them against my skin. The burning sensation instantly cooled down, and I let out a breath I hadn't even realized I'd been holding. After a few moments, she reached down and tore a strip of linen from my skirt before wrapping it around the leaves.

"You'll have to wear a longer skirt if you want to hide this from your father."

I gave a nod. "Thank you."

She leaned forward and touched her forehead and nose against mine—a traditional greeting among our people. "Don't stay out too long, or your father will come looking for you."

With that she hobbled off, leaving me alone with Amura. There was a brief silence, and then I asked, "What were you doing on the beach, Amura?"

"The scouts have been sighted." At the news my eyes snapped up to meet hers and widened. Hope bubbled up in my chest. "I knew you would want to know and that you would be out surfing since the weather is perfect for it. It was a good thing I came when I did. One more moment and…" She was unable to finish her sentence.

"Did the boats have any strangers on them? Did they find the man from the stories?"

She looked away and furrowed her eyebrows. "I'm not sure. They were too far away to tell." She stood, then offered me a hand. "Come on, let's see what the scouts found."

I took her hand and followed her to the docks with a limp in my step. It was already crowded when we got there. There were twenty men in total that had set out in three separate vessels ten months ago…and there were only two vessels docked now. Sadness instantly washed over me when I realized what that meant. Surely that meant their journey had been in vain. With a vessel missing and no newcomers in sight, they _must_ have failed. Perhaps the stories we heard were just that—stories. Amura grabbed my arm and we made our way through the crowd to the front, where my father stood, talking to the scouts.

"And where are they now?" I heard my father ask. Was he talking about the missing vessel?

The leader of the scouts replied, "We were escorting them here, but a couple days ago their sailcloth tore. We were going to wait for them to repair it, but their chief insisted we go ahead to inform you about their coming, but one of our boats stayed behind to make sure they made it. They should be a day's journey behind us, at most."

"This will give us time to prepare for their arrival," my father said with a nod. "Take any wounded men to the healer, and let the others go home and rest." He turned his gaze to the weary men standing behind their leader. "Good job, all of you. I am in your debt."

He moved forward to give each man a handshake, and as soon as he left, the people started crowding around them—eager to hear the details about their journey and what they saw. Most of the men politely excused themselves to retreat home and see their family, but a couple men stayed behind to bask in the attention.

"Yeah—there were even more mo'o in their land than there are here!" one of the men exclaimed, making wild hand gestures.

I turned to see Amura standing beside me, absorbing every detail with wide-eyed wonder. As much as I wanted to know about their journey, I was feeling wiped out by my near-drowning experience. I could hear all the details later.

"Hey, I'm going to head home," I said, and Amura's eyes snapped back over to meet mine.

"All right, I can walk you back—"

I let out a snort, giving her a challenging smile. "I'm not an invalid, Amura. I'll be fine. You want to stay here and listen anyway."

She smiled in response. "I'll come over later."

With a small wave, I set off for home. When I finally made it to our large, thatched roof house, I managed to sneak past my father and head up to my room on the second floor. After reaching my room I grabbed a long skirt that reached down to my ankles and slipped it on. I laid down on my bed and let out a sigh.

As soon as my head hit the soft pillow, I fell asleep.

* * *

 **I wrote this in July of 2015, when we only knew the basic premise of Moana and the names of some characters. At the time, Moana's mother was not included in the list, so a lot of us just sort of assumed she was dead, since Disney has a record of doing that sort of thing in the past. But with the short plot description we were given and the names of characters, my imagination ran wild with ideas, and thus, this was the result.** **It's AU now, of course, but after I saw the movie I realized some of the themes/character traits of Moana in my story were the same in the movie, so I decided to add Moana's gramma and just publish it.**

 **This version will have more characters from polynesian mythology that weren't featured in the movie, and borrows more heavily on Hawaiian culture that I researched before seeing the movie. But hopefully the spirit of this story will feel the same as the movie. Hope you enjoy! And let me know in the comments if you'd like to see more! :)**


	2. Call Of A Friend

Chapter Two - Call Of A Friend

I woke up to someone shaking my shoulder, and opened my eyes to see Amura standing next to my bed. Sitting up, I ran a hand down my face. My hair felt dry to the touch, but still sticky from the sea water. It was matted to my head and hung in tangled, curly clumps around my shoulders. As my vision cleared, I could see the excitement in her eyes, and in the way she bit down on her lower lip.

"Guess what I found out about the visitors!"

"They're here already?" I rubbed at both eyes.

"No, but a couple of the men from the voyage told us everything. The master of the mo'o and his people are from an island like ours—only it's much colder there. And listen to this—they _tamed_ the mo'o! Actually _tamed_ them—like pets! Our scouts found the man from the legends and he agreed to teach us how to tame them," she gushed. "Oh, and the most interesting part is what they look like! The scouts said these people have very pale skin—as pale as the sand on the beach! Imagine that, Moana! And they have eyes of all different colors—like green and blue! And their hair—red and yellow! Isn't that strange?"

"Yeah, it'll be interesting to see them up close."

"I bet the men are really exotic and handsome and—" Amura's eyes shot over to me and instantly widened as she slapped a hand over her mouth. "Uh, I mean…they're probably nothing…"

"Amura, I don't mind if you talk about boys. You can talk about how attractive you think they'll be." I smiled and gave her a shrug. "It wouldn't matter to me if they were."

She pressed her lips into a thin line and gave me a dubious look. "If you say so, Moana…"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, come on, Moana. Don't act like you aren't the least bit interested."

"I'm not, Amura. I don't care about boys or how handsome they are—my one and only love is the ocean."

"Oh, please, I see how you look at the other couples here." Before I could protest her hand shot forward and covered my mouth, stopping me. "Don't deny it, I can see the envy in your eyes. I know you won't let yourself fall in love, that's why you do all that dangerous stuff, like sailing fifty-foot waves."

"What are you talking about?" I asked, pushing her hand away. Something about the way she said it made me feel on edge—defensive.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, Moana." Her hard tone made my temper flare instantly. "I know why you surf and sail and constantly look for things to do—it's to distract yourself. Because as scary as those things are, the one thought that scares you the most is the idea of falling in love. You don't want to face the truth that you _want_ to know what it's like—to fall in love, to be with a man."

I frowned and looked away, unable to meet her penetrating gaze. She was right about nearly everything she said, except one thing—I had faced the truth. I knew that I wanted to fall in love and everything else that went along with it, but I _couldn't_. It's never been in the cards for me. I couldn't fall in love, so I had focused on the one thing I did love and could allow myself to be drawn to—the water.

"You don't understand me, Amura, if that's what you think."

Her eyes narrowed. "I think sometimes I know you better than you know yourself."

I scowled and raised my chin up in defiance. "I really don't see how it's any of _your_ concern what I do with my life. So maybe I like chasing after thrills, so what? It's _my_ life—not _yours!_ "

"No, you don't get it, Moana! Your actions don't just affect you!" she snapped, irritation in her eyes, but there was also a glassy sort of look to them. Tears? No, it couldn't be. Why would she cry over something like this? When she saw me staring, her gaze darted away and she quickly swiped at her eyes. "Do you know how…how terrified and helpless I felt when I saw you wipeout, and then you didn't come back up? Do you know how scared I was when I dragged you to the shore—not knowing if you were dead?" She drew in a shaky breath. "And what about your father? You know how protective he is over you because of what happened with your mother. And your gramma—all your people. You're the next chief, Moana. It's your job to lead us all. I don't know what we'd do if you were gone."

All the anger that had welled up inside me seemed to vanish in an instant. When she was met with silence she narrowed her eyes at the ground, unwilling to meet my gaze. Her reasoning suddenly made a little more sense. How long had she felt this way? I never meant to scare her. I just…I _liked_ the thrill. I had always felt the call of the ocean.

"I…I'm sorry," I replied lamely.

She waved a dismissive hand. "Just give what I said some thought—" she began, but I cut her off.

"I know…that you have good intentions."

"I care about you, a lot." When I didn't reply, Amura continued, "I'm sorry, Moana, I don't mean to get angry, I just…I hate seeing you endlessly chasing after the next high. Remember what your father always says—you can find happiness right where you are."

My gaze drifted over to the window, and to the ocean that lay just beyond our sandy white beaches. Even now I could feel the pull of my whole being toward it. Why couldn't I just be happy where I was? It was a question I had always asked myself, and yet I still felt that indescribable pull—that yearning to discover the unknown and see how far it went. The only people who maybe had an answer were the scouts. That was their destiny—to go out and discover new things and places, to explore. Mine was right here in Motunui—to lead and guide my people.

"Maybe you're right."

Amura beamed at my comment, thinking she finally got through to me. "I know I am."

"So, what were you saying about these new men?" Her beaming smile became a grin. I ran a hand through my hair, shaking my head in amusement. "Amura, you don't even know what they look like. They might all be ugly."

She pursed her lips. "Surely they can't _all_ be ugly. Besides, they have skin the color of sand, Moana— _sand_! You like sand, don't you? And their eyes are blue and green—just like the ocean! You love the ocean, Moana."

I couldn't help but chuckle, glad to see the topic of conversation had turned to something more lighthearted. "Yes, I love the sand and ocean. I also love a lot of other things that I don't think would look handsome on a man."

It was already late afternoon, so we spent the rest of the day talking in my bedroom. I picked up a brush and combed through the knots in my hair while I listened to her talk about the problems she was having with a boy in the village. Amura's family was among the higher class on the island—which was why she had a lot of free time to hang out with me. I had trouble making friends when I was younger—mostly because of my tendency to push away anybody who tried to get close. I loved my people and I was friendly with them all—always willing to help them when they needed it, but I never allowed anyone past arm's length.

My fear of falling in love spilled over from avoiding boys, to avoiding people in general. However, Amura was different. She didn't _let_ me push her away. No matter how hard I tried, she just kept coming back with a smile on her face and a determination that never wavered. Eventually, she broke down my walls and I let her in. We'd been best friends ever since. She was the only one I could tell all my secrets to.

She was in the middle of a story about her younger brother when we heard a knock on the door downstairs. My heart leapt to my throat in excitement. Maybe it was the visitors! I stood and walked over to my window, trying to spot the doorstep from my second story window, but it was impossible. There were palm trees planted right by the doorway, blocking my view.

I leaned over to try and see if I could spot the visitors and Amura joined me a moment later, craning her neck to try and see them as well. One of the men took a step forward, towards the door, and I caught a brief glimpse of him. I immediately recognized him—he was one of the scouts. These must be the men who had been missing when the ships came back—which meant they were the ones who elected to stay behind with the newcomers. So where were the strangers?

I heard the door open below and quickly ducked back inside, brushing the linen curtain that hung from my doorway aside, then tiptoed to the steps. Amura was right behind me, and together we sat on the top step to listen in on the conversation.

"It's good to have you back safe and sound."

"It's good to be back, Chief," one of them answered. "Chief Hiccup, the one they call the master of the mo'o, asked us to deliver you a message. He said it has been a long and tiring trip—not to mention a tiring day—so the Chief will be staying on his boat for tonight and will come ashore in the morning. His ship is docked just inside the barrier reef, sir."

"Very well. You may go and return to your families now."

"Thank you."

As they filed out, Amura grabbed my arm and pulled me back into my room. "Come on—let's go see their boat!"

"It's getting dark, we won't be able to see anything."

"We might if we hurry. Come on, please?" She clasped both hands and jutted one lip out in a pout—as if she were a child instead of an eighteen-year-old woman.

I let out a chuckle. Truth was, I wanted to see them too. "Let's see if we can see them from the roof."

We climbed out my window and scaled the poles forming the roof. We made sure to step carefully, or else risk falling through the thatched roof and hurting ourselves. We walked along the beams and then sat down, gazing out over the waters. The wound on my leg still throbbed with each step—but it didn't hurt as much as it did a few hours ago.

"Oh, Moana, there it is! Look!"

She pointed to a ship moored some distance away. There, bobbing out on the ocean, was a ship much like our own—only the shape of it was different, though it was hard to tell exactly _how_ different from so far away.

"Maybe we don't have to wait until tomorrow to see them," Amura mumbled.

I furrowed my eyebrows and turned to look at her. "What do you mean?"

"We could get a boat and sail out there after everyone else has gone to bed. We could see them before everybody else."

"They might tell my dad, and then we would be in trouble."

"They don't have to know we saw them. If we're quiet, they will never notice us."

"No matter how small the boat, they would see it coming. And even if they didn't, it would still make noise. We can wait until tomorrow to meet them—just like everybody else."

"You're no fun."

"Says the woman who doesn't want me to ride fifty-foot waves."

"I said _fun_ , not suicidal." After a moment or two of silence, she let out a sigh. "I guess you're right, though. I should be getting back home. It will be dark soon."

"I'm going to stay up here a little while longer."

"Okay, see you tomorrow."

I watched Amura carefully climb down to my window sill, then jump into the palm tree by my window and make her way down. As soon as she touched the ground, I turned my attention back to the boat, trying to make out any details.

"Moana?" I heard my dad call from inside the house.

My eyes widened and I cursed under my breath as I hastily stood and made my way back down from the roof. My dad would freak out if he knew I was up on the roof. He was always cautioning me about being safe and not taking risks. I listened to his footsteps making their way up the stairs as I grabbed the ledge of my windowsill from above and took the leap. A white-hot pain flashed through my leg as I swung myself inside the window and made contact with the ground. I tripped and landed on my bed just as my dad pushed the linen aside and entered my room.

"Moana? What are you doing?"

"Oh, nothing. I just tripped…over a loose floorboard." The deep throbbing in my leg preventing me from thinking up a better lie, so I went with a half-truth.

His smile turned into a look of worry. "Oh, I'll have to fix that later. Wouldn't want you hurting yourself."

"Yeah, wouldn't want that." I laughed nervously and sat down on my bed, tucking my injured foot underneath me and ignoring the pain as my dad sat down next to me.

"Moana, I wanted to talk to you. I'm not sure if you know, but the scouts have returned from their journey, and they've brought back the man we've heard about—the master over the mo'o."

I feigned surprise. "That's great! Are they here already?"

"They're moored just inside the barrier reef and will be coming ashore tomorrow." His smile turned affectionate and he leaned forward, placing a warm hand on my shoulder. "Moana, this is a very important event. Our island hadn't had any visitors, aside from the traders, for many years. We will celebrate their arrival with a welcoming ceremony tomorrow. You are now eighteen, and as the future Chief of our people…I am putting you in charge of it. You will act as the Chief tomorrow. It's time I let you take on more responsibility."

"Y-you want me to conduct the ceremony?" I had heard a lot about the welcoming ceremony to greet visitors to our island, but aside from the traders, we never had visitors, so I had never seen the ceremony done before. I turned my uncertain gaze to my dad and saw the proud look on his face—so full of hope and high expectations for me to fulfill. I didn't want to let him down. I plastered a fake smile onto my face. "Um, sure dad, I can do it."

"Great!" He gave me a huge smile before standing, then leaned over to press his forehead and nose against mine. "Well, I'll let you get some rest. It's going to be a big day for you tomorrow."

As soon as he left, I rushed over to my window and stared at the boat so far away. Tomorrow, I would welcome the visitors to our island…the strange, exotic men and woman with skin as pale as the sand and eyes of such bright colors. The thought terrified me.

I closed my eyes and tried to think of happier things...of waves and sailing and surfing— _wait,_ my board! My eyes snapped open and darted off into the direction where I had gone surfing earlier today. I had left my _alaia_ board on the shore, promising to go and get it later. It shouldn't be left out there to endure the elements, it had to be properly stored.

I waited until my dad's snores filled the house before sneaking out my window and climbing down the palm tree, then ran as fast as my injured foot would allow. When I finally made it to the shore, I let out a sigh of relief when I saw my _alaia_ board lying right where I'd left it, illuminated by the moonlight. As I walked over, I caught a glimpse of the new ship, bobbing out in the waters not too far away. Now that I was closer I could see just how different the newcomers ship was from ours. Unlike the flat rafts that rested in between two hulls, their boat seemed to be one giant hull. The massive boat rose into two points on either side, and the front had been carved into the shape of a mo'o head. Instead of the curved poles we used to hang out sailclothes, their pole shot up straight, and their square sailcloth hung from a straight pole that intersected the other one. Very peculiar. But perhaps the most interesting part was what was _on_ the sailcloth—a black mo'o that curled up into itself, though it wasn't one I had ever seen before. The whole cloth was a blood red color, and it was very easily to tell this was the man from the legends.

I absentmindedly wiped the sand from my board as I stared out at the boat. The same pull inside that drove me to the water called to me now, daring me to venture out into the water to see the boat, and the newcomers, up close. I tried to tell myself that I should wait—that I would see them in a few hours when the sun rose and they came ashore, but my feet didn't listen very well; before I knew it, they were taking their first steps into the water. When the water finally reached my calf, a stinging pain shot up my leg from where the salt water met my wound, but still my feet carried my forward. The water finally reached my hips and I placed my _alaia_ board on the surface, then hoisted myself up onto it. As I paddled out towards the boat, all I felt was the same thrill I always got right before surfing a big wave.

My arms dug deep into the water as I pushed myself forward, trying to be as silent as possible. The last thing I needed was to be caught not only sneaking out to see the newcomers, but also swimming out on my _alaia_ board. This was a bad idea...a very bad idea, but then again that had never really stopped me before. As I pulled up alongside the ship, I gazed at it in awe. I couldn't see any people up there, but I could hear conversations floating down. The words that I heard were strange, and I couldn't understand what was being said, but it had a pleasant sort of sound to it. I wondered what they were saying…what they looked like.

A shadow swooped through the sky and my eyes darted up, my whole body tensing. What was that? My eyes scanned the sky for anything amiss, but found nothing. I turned my eyes back to the boat, trying to gauge if I could climb the side and peek up over the railing and see the newcomers. Suddenly a dark creature swopped down and I felt two hard claws clamp down on both my arms, hauling me up into the sky.

I let out a scream as I flew through the air, feet dangling and hair whipping around my face. Kicking my feet in frustration, I tried to wrench myself from the grip of whatever giant creature had grabbed me. The ground was far below us, and falling that far would hurt, but I would rather take my chances in the water than in the grasp of the beast flying through the sky. A sudden thought flashed through my mind and chilled me to my core—the stories my gramma told me about Maui always mentioned that he was a shape shifter, and that one of this favorite form was that of a giant hawk. Oh gods, it was Maui—I was sure of it. He was tired of waiting for me to bear a daughter, so he was going to drag me off anyway!

The giant hawk circled around and headed for the newcomers ship. Wait, what was Maui doing? Why wasn't he headed out to sea? As we swopped above the ship, the claws suddenly released me and I tumbled down onto the wooden deck. My hands shot out to catch myself as I fell hard onto my knees, hair falling into my face. I quickly pushed it aside and looked up to see a man land in front of me, riding a very terrifying beast.

I sucked in a deep breath when I realized it wasn't Maui that had snatched me up—but a mo'o, though it was unlike anything I had ever seen before. I could only assume it was a mo'o, from the colorful wings and the giant horn on its snout. It stared at me with beady, calculating eyes, opening it's jaw to reveal rows of tiny, razor sharp teeth. The man jumped down from the back of the mo'o and it was then I got my first good look at him.

Amura had been wrong about the foreigners. The man standing before me had hair as black as night, and eyes just as dark. The only thing that turned out to be true was his pale, sand-colored skin. He had hard features and a large jaw, with five blue lines streaking all the way down his chin. His gaze was sharp and cold as he gazed down at me. He began to walk towards me, but then stopped, his gaze swinging to something behind me. I turned and saw others standing around on deck, and gasped in surprise. These men and woman looked more like the ones that Amura had described, with hair glowing golden and red in the moonlight. It was too bad I couldn't see the color of their eyes in the darkness.

Suddenly a man spoke from behind me, and everyone turned their attention to him. I turned to see a tall figure step out onto the deck from a small room. His gaze landed on me and then to the man who had kidnapped me. The black haired man spoke in a sharp tone, pointing an accusing finger at me. My gaze swung from him to the man who had emerged from the room, and took in his appearance as he replied to my kidnapper. He was different from the man with black hair. Though it was hard to tell in the limited light from the moon and the torches that lined the ship, his hair was the same light brown as coconut shells. He had a strong, defined jaw, but his features were softer, smoother, than the other man. His hair looked soft and was very short, only reaching his neck—shorter than the black-haired man and the men in my village.

My gaze trailed down to his clothes and I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. His clothing was very strange—a sort of fabric covered him from his neck down to his feet, and it fit snugly on his body. I had noticed similar clothing on the other people on this ship. How could they stand to wear something like that when the sun rose and scorched the earth with it's heat? My gaze traveled further down and noticed, with heat rising in my cheeks, that he wore no _malo_ like the men in our village, but instead very tight cloth that wrapped snugly around his legs. I forced my gaze lower and was again startled by another discovery—he was missing half of one leg. Instead it had been replaced with a metal contraption.

He suddenly cleared his throat and my eyes shot back up to his face, noting that he turned his attention back to me. My mind went into a panic when he started towards me. I shot up, but my foot got caught in my wet skirt and I tumbled back down, banging my elbow on the wood. The man's gaze turned into worry and he paused, holding up both hands, as if in surrender, and then he did something surprising—he spoke in my language.

"Don't worry, we're not going to hurt you. We just want to know what you were doing. We won't hurt you, I promise." He spoke with an accent, but his pleasant, calming way of speaking put me at ease. He gave me a smile and crouched down, and it was then I could see the kindness in his eyes.

"My name is Chief Hiccup." He pressed a hand to his chest, and then gestured to me. "Who are you?"

* * *

 **To celebrate the release of Moana on DVD—you get a new chapter! :D Thank you all so much for all the comments, they really made my day! I was blown away by the number of favorites and follows this got too—you guys are awesome!** **Sorry it took so long to post this. This new chapter is actually my attempt to get back into writing, since I haven't written a single thing for over a year. The previous chapter and the first half of this chapter were written about a year and a half ago, so I'm still trying to get back into the hang of things. Also, please forgive any typos. I always revise my work several times, but there always seems to be something that slips through the cracks, so if anyone would like to volunteer as a beta, it'd be much appreciated (and you get to read the chapters early!)**

 **Other than that, hope you enjoyed! Please let me know what you thought of this chapter! :)**


End file.
